Bella expected the poor thing to collapse, but he stood, trembling, while Gabe quickly untied the loop. With a gentle slap on the rump from Gabe, the animal turned his head, as if to question him with puzzled, liquid black eyes, then he sniffed the air and took unsteady steps forward.
‘Woohoo!’
Their cheers rose spontaneously, but they wasted no time getting back into the warm, soupy dam to extract the second steer. This fellow didn’t thank them when they got him out. He tried to head-butt Gabe for his pains, but eventually he, too, was safely out of harm’s way and they turned to tackle their worst task, shifting the dead cow.
‘I’m so relieved,’ Bella said much later, when the two rescued steers were safe and resting in the shade. ‘I hated the idea of telling Dad that I’d lost three of his herd.’
‘Good teamwork,’ Gabe suggested.
‘Yeah. Your muscles and my brains.’
‘And both of us willing to get down and dirty.’
He flashed a quick smile Bella’s way and her breath caught in her throat. She dropped her gaze to her muddy boots. ‘Wish we could clean up.’
‘There’s a bucket in the back of the ute. We can use the water trough before we start on the fence.’
‘I can fix the fence. You don’t have to stay, Gabe.’
He ignored this as he collected the bucket. ‘Come on.’
At the water trough they took turns to douse each other to wash away the mud and cow grime. It was a precarious occupation for Bella, given that a bucketful of water made Gabe’s clothes cling to his broad chest, tight abs and manly bits.
When it came to wet shirts, Colin Firth’s Mr Darcy had nothing on Gabe Mitchell. Pity the sight also deprived Bella of oxygen.
Terrified he might notice her checking him out she scooped water with her hands, splashing it over him. As kids, they’d found it practically impossible to walk past a trough in summer without someone starting a water fight.
Gabe splashed back, using the heel of his hand to send the water high.
‘Marco,’ he called with a grin.
She hadn’t heard that challenge in years and years.
‘Polo!’ She shot water straight back at him.
Suddenly, just like that, the game of their childhood was on.
‘Marco.’ Gabe scooped and swamped her.
‘Polo.’ Bella sent a hard scoop his way.
‘Marco.’ Splash!
‘Polo.’ Swamp.
Crazy. Stupid waste of water.
Bella stopped splashing and Gabe did, too, and for long, silent seconds they stood facing each other, staring. She could feel her heart pumping. It was wonderful but weird to be carrying on like this with Gabe. It was like taking a step back in time to a carefree summer long ago, when they’d been horsing around at the water trough and Gabe had swept her up in his strong, brown arms.
She’d kicked and squealed as he held her high and she’d loved every minute of it. Loved his strength and the knowledge that she could trust him.
Sure enough, just as he pretended to drop her into the trough, his arms tightened around her and he dunked her gently.
No wonder she’d been so enchanted.
‘Okay,’ he said, abruptly dragging her back from the past. ‘We’d better get on with that fence.’
Oh, yeah, the fence.
22.
It was an hour or so later when Bella finally lowered her butt onto the fallen ironbark trunk, aching and tired but, ultimately, satisfied. Nearby, the two steers were already starting to forget their ordeal.
‘I think they’ll be fine now,’ she said as Gabe propped a dusty boot on the end of the log and swilled the last mouthfuls from his water bottle.
He nodded. ‘They’re safe enough from the dingoes now they’re walking around and they’ll join the others when they come in to drink.’
‘Thanks for all your help.’
He’d been undeniably magnificent. Super-strong, patient and friendly, the way he’d always been for as long as she’d known him – until that black period when all of those qualities had apparently deserted him.
A time Bella was not going to dwell on now.
‘You must be starving,’ she said. ‘Our place is closer. Come back for a late lunch.’
Gabe screwed the metal cap on his bottle, thought for a moment, then shook his head. ‘Thanks, but I should head back.’
‘I owe you big time, Gabe. There’s no way I could have done this without you.’
‘Don’t worry. I’m not letting you off the hook.’ His grey eyes flashed. ‘I’ll probably find some dirty work for you at my place.’
‘Good,’ Bella said with less certainty, then she helped him to load his gear into the back of the ute, carrying the leftover fencing wire and strainers, while Gabe stowed the chainsaw, towing ropes and the rifle that they, thankfully, hadn’t had to use.
He opened the driver’s door, preparing to leave.
‘Let’s hope that’s the end of bogged cattle.’
‘For this season at least.’
He stood for a moment, squinting against the glare and looking into the distance, one hand resting on the door’s rim. ‘Actually, if you’re not too busy, I might call on you for a favour pretty soon.’
‘Absolutely.’ Bella hoped she didn’t sound too anxious.
‘I’m not happy about this weather. The country’s so damn dry and Jim Bryce had a bad fire on his place yesterday. Lost stock and about a hundred acres of country.’
‘You want to back-burn?’
Gabe nodded. ‘I reckon I need to burn off Jonno’s Paddock. It backs straight onto scrub and if that brush starts blazing and the fire gets away, I’m going to lose too much valuable grassland. I want a good wide burned strip along the road over there. I’ve already cleared the cattle out.’
‘Well . . . sure. Sounds doable. I’d be happy to help.’
‘That’d be great, Belle.’
She told herself she imagined the electrifying spark in his eyes as he looked at her. Sure enough, next moment, Gabe was deadpan and serious again.
‘I have a mobile tank, but your father bought one last summer as well. It would be good to have two, one at each end.’
‘I’ll bring it with me. I’ve seen it hanging on the gantry next to the shed.’
‘You’ll find it fits perfectly into the back of your ute.’
‘Great.’ Bella shrugged. ‘I guess there’s a pump and a motor as well. I’ll hunt around in the shed and I’ll check the fuel and the oil.’
‘I have spare fuel.’
Oh, they were very good at this business of being friendly neighbours, weren’t they?
Bella knew she should be pleased that they were sensibly back on track with no more nonsense or teasing. If only their careful politeness didn’t feel so strangely wrong and somehow off-kilter.
‘What day would suit you?’ Gabe asked. ‘You’ll need to give yourself time to get everything secure in the ute. I could help with that if you like.’
‘Oh, I’m sure I’ll manage. How about Thursday? I’ll need a couple of days to take care of things at home before I get the tank set up.’
‘Thursday’s good. According to the forecast there shouldn’t be any wind.’
‘We’ll make it a date then,’ she said.
‘I’ll shout lunch.’
Bella nearly responded with a cheeky joke about bringing the Mylanta, but stopped herself just in time. Being grown up and serious was so much safer.
Gabe slid into the driver’s seat and she stood, with her hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans, watching him. ‘See you Thursday. And thanks for all your help today. Really appreciate it.’
He sent her a wave and a grin as he drove off. She walked over to Striker, ready to ride home, mad with herself for feeling empty and depressed.
Despite the rough terrain as he drove away, Gabe kept an eye, not on the road ahead, but on the view in the rear-vision mirror. His interest was fixed on a point beyond th
e trail of dust to where Bella was mounting her horse.
A damn beautiful sight.
Bella was as slender and fluid as a dancer, as agile as ever, and he could remember the way she used to look on Sassy – a picture of country-style agility and grace. She’d been legendary in the barrel races on the rodeo circuit. Despite her slenderness she had terrific strength and control, and her teamwork with Sassy had been immaculate as she steered as close a possible to a barrel, shaving precious seconds.
After today’s unaccustomed exercise she’d probably be aching, but she looked completely at home in the saddle. The Bella of old.
The girl he’d let go. To the other side of the world.
Gabe’s hands clenched on the steering wheel. He thought he’d suffered enough when Bella left, but having her home again was hell. He wasn’t sure how he’d restrained himself today. A thousand times he’d almost hauled her in and kissed her. In spite of the mud.
Because of the mud.
How many girls would have tackled that job the way Bella had today? How many would have shown her grit and determination?
One thing was certain – Bella Fairburn belonged to this life. She wasn’t like her aunt, even though she liked to think she was. Liz was a gifted artist and she’d followed her calling to the concert stages of Europe.
This country, this life was Bella’s calling. Horses and wide skies and raising cattle. Dirt and dust. Fencing and mustering. Drawing up grazing plans or balancing the books. Take any aspect of this work and Bella Fairburn was good at it.
Gabe knew she had a genuine, bone-deep love of this land. It made no sense that she was rushing back to Europe the first chance she had.
The track dipped, running down a slope covered in scrub and Gabe’s view of Bella disappeared, which was probably just as well. It was now a matter of dodging saplings or bashing his way through. At the bottom he reached the track again and the driving was plain sailing.
His mind zapped straight back to his neighbour.
In a perfect world he would do everything he could to win her again. He would start by trying to make up for the messy end to their relationship and he would try to explain and apologise for that nightmare stretch after his father’s death when his mother’s grief had been so all-consuming.
Those days had been hard. He’d had to live with her repeated laments . . .
‘I don’t think I can live without him, Gabe.’
‘You can. You must,’ he’d pleaded. ‘I’ll be here. I’ll look after you.’
He’d been shocked then to feel tears, shocked to realise that his mother could do that to him.
But it had been so much worse on the day he’d found her sitting, slump-shouldered on the edge of her bed in a sightless trance, nursing one of his father’s old work shirts to her chest, an empty pill bottle on the table beside her.
A pile of white capsules in her lap.
Gabe had saved his mother that day, but he’d also grown up with a terrible jolt. He’d finally understood what had happened when he was little, when she’d left him and his dad and gone to the city.
When she’d gone away he’d been maybe three at the most, and his mother had cried and hugged him tightly to her, so tightly that his father had to gently lift her hands away. And then she’d got into the car with the nurse.
Gabe could remember the way his dad’s strong hand had gripped into his shoulder so hard it hurt as the car drove off down the winding dirt track.
‘It’s just you and me now, little mate.’
It was years before she came home again. Gabe’s dad had acted like she was the Queen or something, cleaning, cooking, ironing his shirts. Gabe had picked a bunch of flowers from Roy’s garden and given them to her. She gave him a hug and he could remember that she’d smelled nice, but what he mostly remembered was the worry mixed with happiness making shiny tears in his father’s eyes.
Of course, when his father was killed, Gabe had known immediately that it was now his task to protect his mother . . .
He’d spoken to the doctors and learned of her long history of depression and he’d taken on the burden and worry of her fragility, on top of the guilt he felt over his father’s death and the added new responsibility of his teenage sisters.
There’d been no space to consider his own happiness.
Of course he’d thought about Bella endlessly, but he hadn’t confided in her at the time. His father had always kept their private troubles strictly under wraps and he’d instilled the importance of this secrecy in Gabe.
There are some things a family just doesn’t share with outsiders, Gabe, no matter how good the friendship may be.
By the time Gabe had emerged from the worst of his private problems, he’d pissed Bella off so completely that she’d left for Europe.
23.
After mulling things over for days, Liz made a decision. Crossing the kitchen to the phone, she dialled the numbed jotted in her notebook. ‘Jack, it’s Liz Fairburn.
‘How are you?’
‘Very well. Listen, I’m ringing with a suggestion I think you’re going to like.’
There was a deep chuckle on the end of the line. ‘A suggestion or a proposition?’
‘Take your pick.’ Liz smiled, amazed that just hearing Jack Roper’s voice could make her feel flirtatious. ‘The thing is,’ she said, adopting a more serious tone. ‘I’ve looked on the map and I’ve seen where you live. I was rather shocked that you’re so far away. It’s too far to come here every week, surely?’
‘I’ll admit it’s a hike. But I do feel bad about neglecting Alex’s music over the past twelve months. I’d like to try to make up for that.’
‘Well, I’m suggesting a compromise. How about we have the lessons in Gidgee Springs? In the CWA hall?’
‘Are you sure?’ Jack asked doubtfully.
‘I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t sure. I’m playing at a fundraiser luncheon for the CWA, you see. It’s pro bono, and they’ve given me a key and offered me the use of their hall any time I like. Their piano’s okay – just okay, mind you, but it will do.’
When Jack hesitated, Liz said, ‘I wouldn’t mind a trip into town once a week.’ This was true. She really did find the silence and loneliness of the bush oppressive at times. ‘And it would save you a couple of hours off your round trip.’
‘It’s a very thoughtful offer, Liz.’
‘I feel as if I owe you. Bella and I are very grateful that you saved our heifer and calf. But if you decide to do this, I’d like to stick with Saturday mornings if that’s okay.’
‘Saturday’s fine, sure. Okay, I’ll accept your kind offer on one condition.’
‘What’s that?’
‘We ask Alex to practise for an hour afterwards while I shout you a drink or a coffee.’
Liz grinned. Dating in Gidgee Springs? What a lark! The local gossipers would have a field day. But Jack knew that and he obviously didn’t care.
‘That sounds like a fair deal, Jack.’
‘I’ll look forward to it.’
Liz was smiling as she hung up, and for no logical reason, she danced a little jig around the kitchen.
‘What’s got into you?’
She hadn’t seen Bella in the doorway, wide eyed and curious.
‘Spring fever,’ Liz responded with a cheeky shrug.
Spring fever.
Romance seemed so easy for her aunt.
Bella had trouble concentrating as she sat at the computer that evening, logging in new details to the grazing plan she’d installed for her dad back when she was studying for her business degree. She kept remembering Liz’s happy dance, which had apparently been inspired by a simple invitation for coffee with Jack Roper.
Liz always seemed to have a man in her life and she never seemed to get in a stew about any of them. How did she do that? It was impossible for Bella, who’d spent almost her whole life completely caught up with one particular male.
These days, that particular male was there in her head
the whole time, distracting her. She couldn’t stop thinking about . . .
‘Bella?’
At the sound of Liz’s voice Bella jumped. Her aunt was at the doorway, holding a huge pink mug. ‘I made hot chocolate. Thought you might like one.’
‘Oh.’ Bella hoped she wasn’t blushing. ‘I’d love one. Thanks.’
Liz nodded towards the computer screen. ‘You work too hard.’
Another blush threatened. ‘I want everything shipshape for Dad.’
‘I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.’ Bella was determined to be super cool as she pulled up beside Gabe’s truck on Thursday morning. Totally, impressively, super cool.
‘Getting the tank into the back of this ute wasn’t as easy as it looked,’ she explained as she climbed out and adjusted the brim of her hat to the glare. Then she noticed George Clooney scampering at Gabe’s heels, wagging his tail madly.
‘Hey, cute boy.’ Kneeling, she rubbed his ears. ‘Have you come to help us?’
‘More like he stowed away,’ said Gabe. ‘I was halfway down the track before I realised he was in the back. Roy’s right. The girls have spoiled him rotten. He thinks he’s part of the family.’
‘Well, between the two of us, we should be able to keep an eye on him.’
‘He’ll have to stay locked in the cabin while we’re burning.’ Gabe frowned. ‘So you had troubles with the tank?’
‘Only nuisance value. The chain caught when I was lowering it down on the block and it took a while to undo. And then I took a while longer to find the load binders.’
‘Well, everything looks good now.’ Gabe prowled round the back of the ute, surveying her handiwork, testing the tension of one of the binders she’d tied over the tank. ‘It’s all very secure.’
‘Yeah. I was like superwoman working that ratchet to get it tight.’
‘Great job.’
He smiled at her and she so wished he wouldn’t smile like that. The sparkle in his eyes undid all the good resolutions she’d set in place over the past three days.
Home Before Sundown Page 14